


You saved me from the fading stars

by Lihai



Category: Saint Seiya
Genre: F/M, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-12-02
Updated: 2012-12-02
Packaged: 2017-11-20 02:33:23
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,405
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/580321
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Lihai/pseuds/Lihai
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The Gold Saints, resurrected, live their lives as civilians, and Saga and Kanon try to deal with their feelings for Saori. Will it end well, or will Athena and the other gods always remain present in their relationships? Written for <a href="http://polybigbang.dreamwidth.org">Polyamory Big Bang 2012</a>.</p>
            </blockquote>





	You saved me from the fading stars

**Author's Note:**

> A huge, special thanks to [Sparrow](http://sparrowshellcat.dreamwidth.org) for creating art for this fic! You can view the art [here](http://sparrowshellcat.dreamwidth.org/79883.html). The title of the fic is taken from a line in Sakamoto Maaya's "Melt the snow in me."

The phone came to life as Saori closed the door, filling the room with its persistent beep. For a second she stood there, mesmerized, then calculated the current time in Japan. On the third beep, she walked over to the bedside table and picked up the receiver.

"Hello?"

Silence on the other end. Saori peeled off her stockings, her mind sifting through possibilities. Big-scale fraud or embezzlement that went undetected for years; lawsuits against the Foundation; a board member suffering from cardiac arrest. Another deity determined to annihilate mankind, convinced that Athena was too helpless to fight back at the ripe old age of eighteen.

"What is it, Tatsumi?"

"Athena?"

The voice was familiar, the way sunshine and warm sand on an oft-visited beach were familiar to your skin. Slowly Saori sat down on the bed. "Yes."

"Welcome back to Greece."

Straight to the point, unembellished by apologies. She found it, combined with hearing Saga's voice over the phone for the first time, refreshing after a day's work. "Thank you. Where are you calling from?"

"Downtown Athens."

"Did you get this number from Tatsumi?"

"He hadn't wanted to give it to me. I assured him I'd call at a proper hour."

"You do, and thank you again."

Small talk, casual talk. With a man who once wanted to kill her - a slip of judgment that had occurred too long ago to matter either to Athena or Saori. She shifted backward, letting her feet dangle off the floor. One good thing about being the leader of a massive organization was that you were used to changes in your routines, including bedtime routine.

"That's good to hear. By the way, are you going to visit Sanctuary?"

A visit to Sanctuary was not in her schedule - all the more reason she should go, since Kido Saori owed it to Athena to look after the retired Saints. No; not take care and not retired. The Saints were simply enjoying their well-deserved rest and they would always be Saints, Cosmo or no Cosmo.

"I'd love to," she assured Saga. "How many of you still live in the Twelve Houses?"

 

Although the Aries clan had returned to Jamir, the Aries Temple was not completely abandoned. Here and there Saori caught metallic gleams that looked like those of Cloth parts. Kiki probably used the Temple as a storehouse, with or without his elders' approval. Walking through the Taurus Temple, as usual, gave her a feeling of reassurance, both for herself and on Aldebaran's behalf.

The single door that was the entrance to the Gemini Temple remained solid nowadays, not prone to splitting into two. Saori hadn't gone in ten steps when he met her halfway. She stopped. The brothers were the sort of identical twins that would never be mistaken for one another, and their differences stood out more starkly, rather than diminished, as they grew older. Little wonder, as they spent most of their time apart.

"Hi," she said. "How are you doing?"

The question took Kanon aback with its simplicity. "I'm fine," he muttered. Up close he was nearly two heads taller than she. With a rueful pang Saori realized that, having left puberty behind, she would definitely remain petite all her life.

"That's great. I haven't seen you since the Hades war."

He nodded, falling into step beside her. "And I haven't thanked you for bringing us back. This second chance business doesn't work too well for everyone. But I'm coping."

"Glad to know." Neither of them mentioned Saga, who might or might not be waiting at the end of the corridor. A coincidence of timings, Saori guessed: Kanon came here to meet Saga, unaware she was coming, while Saga was away, not expecting her to arrive early. "Where have you been all this time?"

Kanon didn't seem to find the question awkward or intrusive. "Like I said, I'm making use of my second chance. I go places, see the world. Some parts of it would still be better off being washed away into the ocean... You're wearing a layperson's clothes."

"Oh." Startled, she glanced down at her blouse and tapered trousers. During the wars, it was unthinkable for Athena to stroll into Sanctuary without her full regalia and her staff. Nowadays no soldiers patrolled the perimeter, no guards challenged strange faces. Sanctuary was a landmark where children were taken to study myth and history, without being told that the two were interchangeable.

"It suits you."

Somehow the compliment made him vulnerable; in reflex, she touched his arm. His muscles went taut under her fingers and she withdrew them, suddenly shy. Quick, she thought, what to do to get past this uneasy pause?

Saga solved the problem simply by arriving. "So you're back," he said to Kanon with neither surprise nor effusive fondness. Kanon murmured something to the effect of being glad to be in Sanctuary again. If he was only being civil, Saga was not offended.

A wave of emotion - not quite sorrow, but close - crashed over Saori. The Foundation was her tether to that other reality, the reality of computers, board meetings, and gala dinners. These Saints, born and trained to fight, what could they turn to? How far was she responsible for their happiness?

"Shall we walk you to the Pope's palace, Athena?" Saga asked. "No one holds the post now, so those of us who are still here are willing discuss that with you. Kanon, you're coming too." The senior warrior, the big brother, was taking over. 

"Very well," Saori replied, equally formal. "I don't believe we need a Sanctuary leader for now, but if any of you have other opinions..."

She continued to talk to Saga, resisting the urge to peer behind her. Kanon was no longer overshadowed by anybody, being a Gold Saint and survivor of the wars. She was foolish to have worried. 

But she was worried, and it bothered her.

 

Six Gold Saints in total came to the meeting, which ended up more like a reunion. Aiolos and Aiolia, on hearing that Athena was in Sanctuary, had headed straight toward the Pope's palace. Milo and Shura had made their Houses a temporary home base and spent their time there as much as anywhere else. All of them treated her with that old mixture of deference and sternness she never received from anyone else these days. If they were bemused that their goddess had become a businesswoman, they kept it to themselves.

Afterward, in the Gemini Temple, Kanon left without a word of where he was going. Saga watched him as he vanished in the dim interior. Saori, brought up as an only child, could only guess at the intricate process in which siblings expressed their feelings to one another.

"Kanon says he can cope with not being a warrior," she said. "How about you?"

Saga stared through her before his eyes snapped back into focus. "It could be hard for me," he admitted. "Fighting was all I was taught to do. Aphrodite at least had the good sense to find a hobby."

She smiled, having admired the sea of exuberant red behind the Pisces Temple. "Many of the Saints go to the places they were born."

His smile, unlike hers, was wry. "Kanon and I have no one left over there. We came to Sanctuary hoping for a clean slate. Which I almost ruined eighteen years ago."

Was he hinting at the murder attempt to confirm her forgiveness? But they both knew she had given it long ago. She said nothing, waiting to see what he was getting at.

"I'm keeping that in mind," he went on. "About making clean slates instead of breaking them. Kanon and those people who used to be Poseidon's soldiers, they're starting anew. All it takes is will."

"Saga."

He stopped, looking shocked, then apologetic. "I'm sorry, Athena, for rambling like that. That was very rude of me."

"It's all right." His sweat carried with it a scent of soil and wood carvings. To him, she probably smelled either of fading perfume or nervousness. "My apartment in Kolonaki, whose phone number you called last night. I don't suppose Tatsumi told you where it is."

 

He didn't enter right away, lingering politely outside the door until she invited him in for the second time. Her computer and the fax machine were on. She asked him to sit down while she typed rapidly on the keyboard. He sat immobile on the plush sofa, uncomfortable in his crew neck sweater and the tungsten-lit room. Then she turned off both machines and faced him.

"I have lots of tea, no coffee, if that's all right with you."

Being in the city's most fashionable district, with its bustling cafes and boutiques, was jarring enough. The sweater alone felt like an ill-fitting costume. Now Athena, whom he had died for - and would die for again - offered him tea. He accepted, taking this vivid dream in stride.

The teacups she brought from the kitchen were porcelain white and steaming. She sat down, not across the table, but next to him. He carefully avoided brushing her fingers when she handed him his cup.

"Thank you, Athena."

"Please call me Saori." She took an obligatory sip, put down the cup, and he followed suit. The pause was so long that he ran an entire range of subjects across his mind: the next holy war, Kanon, this ridiculous sweater. "This afternoon you told me about clean slates. Are you starting over in Sanctuary or going someplace else?"

Not long ago, when memories of the holy war finally lost their sharper edges, he had framed the question differently: did the resurrected Saints have the right to live in Sanctuary? Nearly all of their Cosmo was gone, and the threat of another godly invasion was almost nonexistent. Being Saints in name only was an insult they could bear as long as they remained useful, a term whose definition he was still exploring.

"I haven't gone to many places, like some of the others. Maybe I can start tomorrow."

Athena - Saori - put her hands on her lap. It made her look like an attentive schoolgirl, an impression that, to his astonishment, didn't strike him as too sacrilegious. "Oh, that's terrific. I was going to ask if you don't mind coming to Japan with me."

His mind went blank, dissolved into a tangle of confusion, before years of enforced discipline took control. "If you wish me to, I will."

She sucked in her bottom lip before her face regained its composure. Did his unquestioning obedience disappoint her? The problem was that he, and his fellow Gold Saints, only had experience in dealing with their goddess. This young woman, who lived in high-rent apartments and relayed electronic messages across the globe, was foreign to them. He was about to deliver the inevitable question when she answered it.

"I figure it's easier - for me - to ask you here, in this apartment. Sets the right ambience, and all that. You said you want to travel. So the point of departure shouldn't be in any way tied to your past." She took a deep breath. "I'm sorry."

This shook him hard enough to make him burst out, "Don't be - what are you sorry for?"

"For assuming things and taking decisions for you. You went through so much - you wouldn't even be here if it weren't for me. This isn't making it up to you, I'm just doing what I can - "

"Athena, you owe me nothing - "

" - possibly for my own sake, to keep my conscience clear - "

Before his brain could bark out a warning, he reached out and covered her hands with his. She broke off in mid-sentence, lips parted. Horrified, he began to snatch his hands back, but she caught and locked them in a firm grasp. The feel of her palm, a slow-burning fire against his skin, sent traitorously pleasant tingles down his arm.

Then she looked directly at him, unsmiling. He would have met that look but for its scorching intensity. Did he ever believe he knew how strong she was, how unyielding? He was wrong, wrong, and the memory of losing her on the night of the Specters' attack caused his heart to contract.

Saori, he thought wildly. Saori, not Athena.

She released his hands, but the moment had not passed. His heart, which no longer thudded and lurched, had gone cold. The confusion was back, now tinged with fear.

"Saga," she said, and the fear exploded like ink falling into water, "I'm being selfish. Again, I'm sorry."

"No, I'm..." An apology for having grabbed her hand seemed trivial, intolerable. He bowed his head. "Then I'll go to Japan with you."

"Don't you want to know why?"

The gentle teasing in her tone nearly undid him. "Not to help you run your Foundation, I'm sure."

Another person would have chuckled at the dutifully delivered joke. He imagined she smiled instead, and the fear sank deeper into him.

"No, not that. We'll discuss it later. But thank you for offering."

 

"What demon?" Kanon asked.

They were climbing the steps to the Gemini Temple, their path silvered by the moon. Kanon stank of beer and had so far acted sober, without a single misplaced syllable in his speech. As soon as he commented on the sweater, Saga's story of what had just occurred came tumbling out.

"The old one." Saga raised his head at the looming Temple. "The bastard that convinced me I could get away with killing the Pope and Athena. It was there, in her apartment with me."

Kanon sounded wary. "How could you tell? She mentions Japan and suddenly you want to stab her with a knife, or..."

"That wasn't it."

"So be more specific."

A flash of heat suffused Saga's neck. How could he explain it to Kanon without making himself sound depraved? In that apartment he met the other person who existed alongside Athena; he met a human girl with all of Athena's steadfastness and heart. Everything about this girl fascinated him, from the way she balanced the teacups to the curves of her mouth - He stumbled, and Kanon slowed down to a halt.

"I noticed her as a woman," Saga murmured. When uttered out loud, the truth, so simple in his mind, was anything but. Or it might not be the truth but the demon's new and revised ruse. He was degrading his goddess into a mortal whose flesh could be lusted after. If this went on, he could save everyone the trouble of chastising him by committing a second suicide.

The wind sighed and died down in the ensuing silence. Saga frowned at Kanon, oddly irritated at his brother's lack of response. Kanon gazed back, unruffled.

"So did I," he said. "Sooner than you, it seems. She's a very well-endowed young lady, this Saori. I don't blame you for being attracted to her."

Saga froze. "Just how much did you drink tonight?" he growled. "Or are you making fun of me? Because it's not working."

Kanon's smile held neither mirth nor mischief. The sight of it lanced Saga through the heart. How had he missed this? His brother was being more than understanding; Kanon was opening himself, sharing his feelings - feelings that were painfully similar to Saga's.

The dawning comprehension on Saga's expression was not lost on Kanon. "Yeah, more or less." He blew at his sleeves. "I wasn't drinking, or not much. Went to a bar and some drunk spilled his beer on me. Sounds like a corny excuse, eh? Well, what the hell. Our lives are already corny as it is."

 

Less than five minutes after the private jet took off, Saga settled comfortably into his seat. When Kanon passed him by in the aisle, he found his brother asleep. He stood over Saga for a moment, then made his way to the front seat.

Saori was reading from a folder, which she closed at Kanon's approach, insisting that the files were nothing urgent. Sitting down beside her, he remarked that their warrior days were indeed over. Nobody who must fight against gods could sleep with such abandon during a journey to a new place.

"That's good," she replied. "Saga could use a lot of rest."

"It'll grow on us, I'm sure - not having to worry anymore about one hundred and eight killers in black and their boss." He twisted around to face her directly. "Thanks for letting me tag along. I appreciate it."

She tapped at the folder. "Just between us," she stage-whispered, "I wasn't sure this is the right thing to do. By asking him to come to Japan, it might seem I was feeling sorry for him. Now the reasons don't matter - we're here and that's all there is to it."

Kanon leaned forward, into the boundary of her personal space. "Saga is grateful. We both are. He thinks you're an extraordinary and beautiful young lady." A pause. "So do I."

Her eyes went round, and his own heart missed a beat. He steeled himself for the polite thanks and the dismissal. Yet she made neither, and continued to hold his gaze, silently posing a question. Nudging away all the doubts and history between them, he kissed her.

Despite its being a swift pressing of the lips, a whiff of her breath escaped into his mouth. Frightened of losing control, he clutched at the armrest and wrenched himself away from her. Three seconds passed before he could look at her again. She was flushed red, her mouth a little open.

Without another word he got up and left.

 

From the airport Saga and Kanon were taken straight to the Kido mansion, while Saori took another car to the Foundation's head office. If the commercials Kanon saw on the pub's battered television set were any indication, their goddess would be leading a board meeting ten or twenty floors above the ground, in an expansive room with a view that commanded the entire city. Or was that not Athena but the other woman, Saori?

"She hasn't forgotten being Athena if that's what you're implying," Saga said. They were traveling in yet another modern convenience Kanon had only seen on TV before, a limousine. So far he liked its cool interior and unobtrusive speed.

"We wouldn't be here if anyone forgets anything." Kanon stretched out one leg. "Aiolos should've come along. He'd adore being near her, and you can finally give him a proper apology."

Saga shot him a look of amused disbelief. "I have. Apologized to him, that is. Try another topic."

Earlier Kanon had been determined to speak to his brother about what happened aboard the jet. Although he hadn't grown any less sure that it was the right choice, his mind found it harder to form the right words. The last thing he needed was excuses - or worse, arguments.

He lowered his voice. "So. Any idea what we're going to do about - how we feel about her?"

"None," Saga said, almost cutting into Kanon's sentence. "Not a thing."

"Why? She doesn't hate us for it."

Saga narrowed his eyes. "She doesn't hate us for it? Is that something you know or did you just guess?"

The last time Kanon had made Saga angry, he became stuck in a watery grave before Poseidon's Cosmo yanked him out. But today was different; this time their honesty wouldn't cost a single life. "Fine," Kanon said. "Let's just do what we think is best. You're an idiot, by the way."

"Suit yourself. And you haven't answered my question."

In for a confession, in for a punch on the face. "Because I kissed her and she was nowhere as pissed as you about it."

Saga went very still. Then he turned his head away to gaze out of the window. He didn't change position during the rest of the journey, as though Kanon was no longer there. That punch was probably saved for later, but Kanon believed not. Saga's refusal to react was eloquent enough.

 

Saori joined them for dinner, which both gratified and alarmed Tatsumi. "You should go to bed early," he declared, pulling out her chair for her. "That trip to Greece must have been exhausting."

"Thanks, Tatsumi." The old retainer left the dining room, and Saori looked at Saga and Kanon in turns. Either she went a little pink both times, or it was just Saga's imagination. "Welcome to the Kido mansion."

Kanon spoke up. "Thanks again for allowing me to tag along." Saga waited, expecting quips about how she should invite the other Saints over, for fairness' sake. What Kanon did say was, "I know you and Saga want to spend time together by yourselves."

Crimson spots flared up on Saori's cheeks, then faded. Saga shot to his feet, opening his mouth to reply. When he realized he completely forgot what that reply was, he balled his fists and pressed them against the table.

"Hey, it's all good," Kanon assured them, and spoke directly to Saori. "Saga may very well be in love with you. He only needs to get used to the idea of you as a woman, not the goddess we swear to protect. No, no, hear me out." He glanced at Saga's fists. "Japan is the best place for that - for seeing you as a woman like any other. That's why he's here, isn't it?"

She was a woman like no other, Saga wanted to say, before he checked himself. Such banality had no place in this conversation. Neither did Kanon's habit of making such stark statements, or his not caring whether they were appropriate.

Kanon bade them good night and retreated to his room. The atmosphere in the dining room cooled into formality, and they ate quickly. As the servants began to clear the table, Saga offered to escort Saori to her room. She thanked and corrected him - she was going to her study, not her room, since she had work to do.

"I'm sorry about Kanon," he said on their way up the stairs. "He just doesn't know when to shut up."

"No need to be sorry. He's concerned about you, and bringing it out in the open makes him feel better."

She was so close to him that her Cosmo occasionally swept across his skin like a balm. Here they were, far removed from Sanctuary, where they had met and he had held a dagger to her twice. Kanon was right. He was here with Saori, and he was at peace - for now.

When he didn't follow her into the study, she signaled at him to come in. Her workspace constituted of old furniture, bookshelves, a computer, and the scent of apples. They stopped in front of the desk, where she peered up at him.

"Before I knew I was Athena, I imagined she's very tall," she said. "Or she should be, and it's Saori who's small."

"You're not small." Her eyes; so large, so close that he felt he could drown in her pupils. He swallowed. "You're, well, regular."

"Regular!" The laugh exploded into a full-blown chortle, and she covered her mouth to stifle it. "That's like the sweetest thing anyone has ever said about me."

"You're welcome," he murmured, putting a hand against her lower back. When she didn't resist, he drew her closer, until the fabrics of their clothes rustled against each other and her warmth, her warmth -

He bent down, hooked an arm around the back of her knees, lifted her, and sat her down on the desk. She gasped as she thumped down softly on the wooden surface. Her hip knocked over a ballpoint stand, which fell on its side unheeded. Now her face - the thick eyelashes, the regal nose - was directly in his line of sight, and it jolted him.

Kanon might have little hesitation in courting this young lady, this Saori, even kissing her. But Kanon had paid his dues. He had taken Poseidon's trident and Milo's needles, and guarded her when Hades awakened. Whereas Saga - 

He stepped back and she watched him, wide-eyed. "I'm sorry," he breathed. "I don't know what came over me."

Sliding down from the desk, she took his hand and squeezed it. The touch stung the nerves up his arm, across his stomach, and lower. "No." She spoke with more than a hint of authority and squeezed again, this time with both hands. "Don't. We're here because we're about to be honest with each other. No past guilt, nothing to be atoned for. Don't walk out. Please stay with me."

Yes, he would, he wanted desperately to answer. He would stay with her, try to forget the protector of earth who stood between them. But the words wouldn't come - or were they even necessary? Quietly he cursed those years of rigorous training, duplicity, and solitude. Here he was, at thirty-three years of age, tongue-tied before an eighteen-year-old. Or perhaps faulting his warrior life was uncalled for; Kanon, who had received the same training he did, definitely had more experience.

Kanon. That was another subject better breached sooner than later.

"Yes," he said, squeezing her hand in return. "I'm staying with you." His own voice struck him as half-hearted, so he repeated, more confidently, "I'm staying."

Open smiles and laughter didn’t come easily to her, raised as she had been to observe propriety at all times. Her eyes, however, sparkled, and the corners of her mouth dimpled. No words were required; he had been mistaken on that score, as well.

 

Is this a done thing? she thought as he confirmed that he was staying. Can you fall in love with two persons at the same time? She was happy simply by being near Saga, happy when she basked in that quiet resilience he exuded, in the feel of his skin against hers. Kanon's faint mischievous streak, which not even Sunion could wipe off, excited her, challenged her to be just as daring. When she was with one she never compared him with the other, never found either of them lacking. She loved them both, and it seemed they loved her back. Put this way, it was the farthest thing from complicated.

And yet, for others, it might not be. The question was, did she really care?

 

The next morning Tatsumi hovered around the breakfast table, radiating disapproval. Last night he had noticed Saga going with Saori into her study and not leaving immediately afterward. From time to time he glowered at Saga when he assumed Saori was not looking. She found this attitude unfair, since the blame was not Saga's alone.

"Tatsumi," she said in her best lady-of-the-house voice. "Please see to it that the car is ready."

"The driver is doing just that."

"Check with him to make sure, thank you."

With a final scathing glance at Saga, Tatsumi stalked out of the dining room. Had he been her parent, Saori wouldn't have gotten rid of him half as easily. She wasn't sure if this made her lucky or crass.

"Kanon isn't up yet?" Saga asked.

"No." Saori was surprised, then relieved. They had put off this subject long enough as it was. "He's probably still exhausted from the flight."

Saga had finished eating. Now he laid down his knife and fork. His eyes were serious when they met hers. "He told me about what happened on the plane."

"Did he?" Refusing to feel embarrassed, she nevertheless ducked her head to hide a passing blush. "You - you don't sound mad."

"Because I'm not." His voice was low, tender; a caress to her ears. "Because it's the way things are. Kanon would've said the same."

A lump rose to her throat. Did Saori deserve the two of them in her life, and did she truly want to know the answer? And yes, it was Saori they were here for, and to her they were Saga and Kanon, not the Gemini Saints. Sanctuary and Athena had subsided to the distant background for the time being.

She yearned for this serenity, and she hadn't even suspected it.

 

Today was one of those magical Fridays when everything went into a lull in anticipation of weekend instead of racing pell-mell toward it. A brief meeting with one of the Foundation's partners was the last item on Saori's agenda. After writing and signing the report, she decided to do some idle shopping. It had never been one of her vices, but she was in no mood to return home. Besides, Saga and Kanon were out - good for them, especially Saga. 

Going into the music store, she began to head for the classical section. Then she reconsidered and veered away from it. Her life was already saturated with classical Japanese and Western music, so a little diversity would do her good. She walked on until she reached the bestseller shelves, there to inspect the artfully arranged covers and try to find a familiar name.

From behind her a male voice said, "You'd better know what you're doing."

Caught off-guard, she spun around. While the voice was completely unknown to her, the flicker of Cosmo that went with it was not. She saw a square-jawed man in a denim jacket, the end of his ponytail resting on one shoulder.

"Hey, Athena," he said, grinning. "Making the most of your time off?"

A group of middle school kids walked into the store, conferring among themselves. In one corner two men made animated gestures at the rows of CDs. Saori wrinkled her forehead. "Hermes?"

"In the flesh. Or rather, in some mortal's flesh. I'm borrowing it because my true form would've attracted too much attention."

"Let's talk in my car."

"Here will do. I'll finish before this poor mortal's body crumbles." Hermes tossed his head so that the ponytail bounced off his shoulder. "Some of us think it's disgraceful enough that you choose to live among humans as a human. Now you get romantically involved with them - you, one of the maiden goddesses."

His tone held no reproach, and thus she did not bridle. "If I tell you it's Saori and not Athena, would that make any difference?"

"If you really believe that and are not deceiving yourself, then I guess, yeah, it does."

She inclined her head, aware that any other Olympian would have been harsher with her. "You're taking the trouble to meet me. Does that mean I'm going to be punished?"

A feverish shudder racked the ponytailed man's body. When it was over, Hermes clicked his tongue. "This person is having difficulty containing my Cosmo, damn it. No, you're not going to be punished, at least for now. We're all allowed our little dalliances - it's a centuries-old tradition, so to speak."

The word dalliance rankled on her, but she refrained from commenting. "This is a warning, then."

"More like keeping you updated on our opinions, in case you're curious about them." Hermes stepped away from the shelves, the boyish grin resurfacing. "Just watch your back. Those men once wanted you dead. They might have a relapse."

"Not a chance," she shot back, but Hermes was already striding out of the store. He shuddered once more, causing the kids to look up from their browsing and the cashier to frown. Saori stared after him, uncertainty sweeping over her. It was so strong that she couldn't tell whether going home would soothe it away or do the exact opposite.

 

The brothers didn't come home for dinner, foiling Saori's attempt to share the afternoon's encounter with someone. She went to bed early in the hope that a good night's sleep would whittle away the discomfort. But why should she feel discomfort, exactly? She had braved situations more crushing than her peers' condemnation. Moreover, the gods seemed to consider her actions deplorable but not overly so, and wouldn't banish her only for that. Clasping that conviction to heart like a charm, she floated into sleep.

Less than a minute later, or so it felt to her, she woke up. Her instinct more than her hearing informed her that someone was standing outside her door. Two someones. Or was that just a fancy born of longing and drowsiness? She sat up, put one foot on the floor.

"You two," she called out, "are you there? Come on in."

The reply was muffled by distance and the door, "You sure?"

Kanon. Of course. Letting her smile show in her voice, she said, "Absolutely. Come in, it's not locked."

When the door opened, Saori's eyes had adjusted to the dark and could make out their shapes. They remained in the doorway - out of good manners, she surmised. She crossed the room halfway and held out her hand. Finally they ambled in, and Saga shut the door. The three of them stood facing one another in the middle of the room.

"Had a great night out?" she asked. Hermes and his message had become irrelevant by now. Did she actually plan to burden Saga and Kanon with it? Amazing.

Kanon shrugged. "It was okay. I didn't even get to drink anything, there's too much to see."

He sounded subdued, unlike his usual carefree self. Saga, too, didn't look like he intended to contribute to the conversation. Saori's good cheer began to evaporate. Could they have come to deliver bad news?

"What is it?" Timidly, as if the reason behind their uneasiness was her doing. For all she knew, it might be. Probably another Olympian had come to them, in a manner less friendly than Hermes'.

Saga answered, "Today we sensed an alien Cosmo - it was no one's we recognized, and far too big to be a Saint's. We figured it might be an enemy, we just don't know who."

She released the breath she had been holding. "You can still sense Cosmo." It was a statement.

They exchanged glances, probably because of her apparent relief. "That's right," Kanon said.

"Was it a god?" Saga's question was also more of a statement.

"Hermes. We met today. He said the other Olympians..." 

She floundered. Was she really going to spare their feelings by being tactful? That was absurd. Saga and Kanon were no more delicate than she was. No, what she tried to do was maintain some semblance of dignity in this situation. Which was equally absurd - what right did the gods or anyone have to judge their situation as undignified?

"The other Olympians knew about us and talked about it. I told Hermes it's Saori's business and none of theirs. Well, not in so many words, but he got the gist. I think."

Her lighthearted tone, instead of cheering up Saga and Kanon, seemed to achieve the opposite effect. She could almost hear the cogwheels in their brains whirring, spelling out replies that were not apologies or cheap consolation. They cared that much about her, about her feelings - Heat stung her eyes, and she pushed it back down. Keep a cool head, she ordered herself, or there _would_ be indignity.

"As long as you're all right." Saga spoke with caution, feeling his way around each word.

"I am." She looked at them in turns. Their expressions were solemn, which, she supposed, mirrored her own. "How about you two?"

They replied without delay. "We're fine," said Saga, and Kanon added, "Those Olympians had better not pester you again."

"I'll ignore them," she promised.

Saga took her hand. "I know you will." Lightning-quick, he bent down and kissed her full on the mouth. Before she could respond, he was already at the door and disappeared into the corridor outside.

At a loss, Saori could only blink at the door. Her nose throbbed a little, and not unpleasantly, after his had bumped it. Then Kanon put a light hand on her shoulder.

"Saga's worried." His breath tickled her ear. "Those gods can't be all too thrilled about Hades and Poseidon's defeat. And the Gold Saints don't have much power after they're brought back to life."

"But you must've come up with a solution?" On impulse, she reached up and pulled his head closer to hers. He tensed, then relaxed again. The feather-like touch of his breath now brushed against her neck, sending a delicious shiver down her side.

"We agreed to trust those young Bronze Saints. It worked before. Not that we'll just sit back and keep tabs on things. We'll lend a hand, no matter how."

Pushing her hair back with his knuckles, he gave her neck a long, lingering kiss, until she thought her knees would melt. When he pulled away, both of them were breathing a little heavily. A pulse beat on Saori's nose, reminding her of the earlier kiss; her entire face and neck went hot at the memory.

I'm missing out on something, she thought groggily. What is it? What should I have told them?

"Sorry for the interruption," Kanon said with more calm that she felt. "Good night." He moved toward the door.

"Kanon!"

He stopped, turned a quizzical look at her. She wanted to wring her hands together, feeling she had committed a faux pas, feeling too young. "Thank you. To Saga too."

A nod, then he was gone. Now Saori remembered: she should have told them to worry less. She owed them, and herself, that much.

 

Both Saga and Kanon skipped breakfast, having left the house before she woke up. Since she understood their need to take some time away from each other, she didn't resent them for it. She did wonder, in passing, if they were also avoiding her.

On the last Saturday of the month her schedule included going to the orphanage, now legally owned by Miho. The Foundation sponsored the children's education and sometimes provided overseas scholarships for the exceptionally bright. Saori and Miho would inspect the children's progress report together, and each time Saori was impressed by Miho's bookkeeping.

She got into the driver's seat of her Nissan, her spirits already uplifted; she loved driving her own car. Her grandfather would have objected, but oddly enough she experienced no twinge of guilt. Just another side effect, she concluded, of triumphing over gods and running her own life for over a decade.

A woman stood outside the mansion gate as the car cruised out of it. She wore a baseball cap and T-shirt, her hair gathered in a single braid. Saori stepped on the brake, rolled down the window, and the woman moved to stand next to the side mirror.

"Athena, good morning."

"You're... Aquila Marin?"

The woman gave a small bow. "I thought you wouldn't recognize me without the mask."

"Your hair gave you away, and your Cosmo." Delighted as always to see a Saint in casual clothes and out of Sanctuary, Saori smiled up at Marin. "What are you doing in Tokyo?"

"My brother and I are visiting our old neighborhood, where we were born. I'm just dropping by to see if you're all right."

"Oh, thank you." That was insufficient, so Saori smiled more widely. "Would you like to come in? I have an appointment but I can call to say I'm going to be late."

"How about I come again later, after you're done with your appointment."

Saori's smile faded. "Is there something wrong?" This must be about Saga and Kanon - what else? The Saints in Sanctuary had misgivings about the three of them, and Marin was sent as the spokesperson. The Saori argument would be futile, since Saori and Athena were inseparable for the Gold and Silver Saints, who had always known her as Athena.

Marin raised an eyebrow. "Wrong's not the word for it. I can come tomorrow if you're busy."

"I'm not, not at all. Say one o'clock?"

Marin agreed, and they parted on that amicable note. Saori drove away from the mansion, a sinking feeling in the pit of her stomach. Self-justification, she had discovered, tasted a little bit like sour cream.

 

At one o'clock on the dot, Marin was admitted into the living room. Saori sat on a wing chair, smoothing the front of her skirt with one hand. She felt like a misbehaving student, which was downright silly, but she did. After all, if Marin only wanted to make sure she was fine, their conversation this morning would have sufficed.

"Please sit down," she said, and Marin took the seat opposite. These Amazons, Saori noticed, moved with such efficiency that they seemed to take up little space. The idea that she had paid scant attention to her own Saints' true abilities caused a spark of melancholy.

"These past five years have been quiet," Marin remarked. "Have the gods grown less contemptuous of humans, do you know?"

"If they have, they may be keeping the sentiment to themselves." The mental image of the other Olympians being so restrained made Saori smile. "But yes, thank goodness for the peace."

Marin smiled thinly in return. By now Saori had grown used to seeing a human face where the mask used to be. She also realized that Marin didn't even remotely resemble Seika, Seiya's sister. Should there ever be a next Athena, she had better abolish the masked women rule.

"What would you like to talk to me about?"

Marin stapled her fingers together. "Aiolia called last night. He said you're here with the Gemini Saints, only - how do I put it - they're not here as Saints, but as men."

The muscles on Saori's own face twitched. Of course everyone would ask her and not the brothers. By tradition, Athena didn't have lovers, and it was unthinkable that Saga and Kanon had initiated the whole thing.

"Aiolia called you," she repeated. "On behalf of all the Saints in Sanctuary?"

"They're concerned." Relentless as Marin was, Saori didn't sense any accusatory vibes. "You're Athena, our goddess. I think they're bewildered to see you act like an ordinary teenage girl."

"But for you this situation is normal."

"I made comparisons, that's all. Aiolia likes Marin, not the Aquila Saint who wears the Aquila Cloth. Those Gemini guys, their feelings must be for Kido Saori, not the goddess Athena. Correct me if I'm wrong."

Saori's spine went weak with relief. Then she winced - why would she need anybody else's approval of her decision? But the answer was easy: because the Saints were a key part of her life. She wanted them to see the person she was now in full - the corporation owner, the woman who could love.

"That's what I've been telling those two," she said, secretly afraid that she might be gushing. "They're here with Saori, not Athena. It's just that - every time the Saints look at me, they see Athena and no one else."

"A lifetime of habit does that," Marin replied dismissively. "Touma and I have been to Japan a few times. We see you on TV and in the newspaper, so we get that you're not here as Athena."

"Has Aiolia ever been here?" Then Saori blushed. "Oh, I'm sorry, that was out of line."

"No offense taken. He's planning to come here sometime this year. We might travel, or rent a house in the countryside. Anyway - not to put any pressure on you - is there anything I should tell him when he calls again?"

Saori straightened up and pulled back her shoulders. "Athena wants this peace to last, but if there's a war coming, she's ready."

This time Marin's smile broke forth like the sun from behind clouds. "Knew you'd say that." She got to her feet and made a deep bow. "Sorry I - we - poked my nose into your private life." 

Saori shook her head. "No need to be sorry. And talking to you has been a pleasure."

"Those Gold Saints think I make a good rep. Not because I'm a woman, I hope."

No, because you're a good teacher, Saori thought, and inwardly sniffed at herself. Since when did she become this frivolous? "Please tell them thank you, for caring that much about me."

"We've always cared about you," Marin said, and a fleeting image flitted before Saori's eyes: if they were close friends instead of warrior and commander, this was her cue to hug Marin. 

 

She watched movies on video during the rest of the day, her mind drifting toward the Saints every now and then. Ikki had managed to prevent anyone from learning of his whereabouts for the last three years - a record, even by Ikki's standards. Last month Saori received a baby picture from Gorouhou, and she wrote back instantly, inviting the family to Japan. They could enjoy a nostalgic trip with Shun, who now spent his time doing odd writing and designing jobs. If they were lucky, the ever-restless, globetrotting Seiya might also happen to be in Japan.

Happy endings were unsettling in that they struck her as fragile.

It was full dark when she put on warm outdoor clothes and drove her car downtown. She parked it at a shopping mall, then walked out into the streets, which were alive with people, noises, and odors. She had left the house on a whim, bent on doing something she had never done - going out at night on her own, placing herself in the midst of the humanity Athena was supposed to protect. The Saints were not the only ones putting her on a pedestal; she did it, too.

Strolling along the sidewalk, she absorbed each and every input to her senses. She marveled at the latest TV models on store windows, the raucous laughter from somewhere behind her, the tang of car exhaust. This much and more she had missed when she was busy battling disgruntled gods. Did the Athenas before her come in contact with a lot of people, not just the Saints and the enemies? If so, she envied them.

 

Kanon returned to the mansion around eleven the next morning. He assured Saori that he had never gotten lost and knew where he was at all times. "Getting lost when traveling in your bullet train is not an option," he stated, then changed the subject. "Saga's out again?"

"He'd also like a firsthand experience of the bullet train."

"Huh. Good for him."

They were sitting at the balcony table, where Saori had been scanning various Sunday newspapers before Kanon announced himself. Following the idle chat about bullet trains, Kanon said nothing for so long that a vague sense of dread stole over Saori. She folded her hands on her lap, debating with herself whether she should break the tension.

"Have you felt another huge Cosmo?" she ventured.

"No." It took him a few seconds before he could meet her eyes. "Listen - thanks for having me here - "

The dread morphed into mild impatience. "Stop saying that," she said, perhaps more sharply than necessary. "Having you here makes me happy, it's not an obligation. Aren't _you_ happy?"

He gave her a crooked smile, and she was ashamed for losing her temper. "Can I ask you an honest question?"

"Yes."

Kanon put one elbow on the table. "Will you be all right after Saga and I leave?"

The words _Of course_ leaped to her lips, then his question sank in. Although her heart thumped against her ribs, she remained sitting upright. "You two are leaving?"

Suddenly he looked as embarrassed as she had felt, and withdrew his elbow from the table. "We all know he and I can't stay here forever."

"If you're talking about the Olympians - "

"It's not just them. We know you're Saori to Saga and me, and to yourself. That doesn't mean you've stopped being Athena. And Athena belongs to all her Saints, not just two of them. Some of those Saints won't be too comfortable about this."

She laid out a card - not really an ace, more like a king. "Aquila Marin came here yesterday on behalf of the other Saints. I told her there's no need to worry. Athena is not neglecting her duty."

"And that settles it?"

"Why not? Since they asked about Athena, not Saori." Her fingers curled into a loose fist, matching the tightening in her chest. "Unless it's not the Saints you're actually worried about."

He regarded the neat pile of newspapers. She was struck by an absolutely outrageous idea - that he feared the press would get wind of their situation. A tabloid, maybe, or a TV show about celebrities.

"This is going to sound stupid," he muttered.

"Nothing is stupid about the three of us."

The silence dragged on as he continued to lock his gaze on the newspapers. Then his eyes switched back to her. "I... might be a bad influence on you."

Her own eyes sprang wide open. What are you even saying? she mouthed, and her mind added: Just you, or you and Saga?

"Because I'm here, you have to divide your time, your concentration, your - heart..."

He struggled with the last word, dropping his eyes once more. Then she was on her feet, closing the gap between them, and flung her arms around him. His own arms circled around her, and he gave her a hug so fierce she wanted to weep.

"Never," she whispered into his hair, "ever think of yourself as a problem for me. Because you're not."

Carefully he untangled himself and held her at an arm's length. In his face she read an echo of her sadness. Her own face, she hoped, told him that he was not second best after Saga, and never would be.

"On the plane to Japan," he began. "Do you remember? I wouldn't have kissed you if I so much as guessed you'd hate me for it."

"Kanon, I will never hate you."

His face clouded over, then cleared. "No, I know you won't. That's part of the reason I... You shouldn't have encouraged me, but I'm not sorry you did."

"Neither am I," she replied, forcing it past the tears that seared her throat. "Are you really leaving?"

"Not forever. Saga is convinced our family line ends with us, but I don't buy that. I'm going to snoop around in our birth town, see if I can pinpoint a second-removed cousin or two. Besides, I'll always know where to find you."

It was just like Kanon to cling to an inspiration and investigate. Her tears receding, Saori managed to offer him a genuine smile. After a slight hesitation, Kanon smiled back, his hands falling away from her arms.

"Good luck," she said. 

"Thanks. Maybe I'd better pull the stakes before Saga's here, so he can't talk me out of this."

 

Monday morning arrived without Saga. Saori concentrated on work during the day, trying not to call the house to check if he had returned. She told herself Saga had no obligation to report his itinerary to her, but this only intensified the hollowed-out feeling. Knowing than nothing lasted forever was wholly different from living that knowledge.

When she came home, a freshly showered Saga with shorter hair was walking along the driveway to the front door. Instead of leaping with joy, her heart shriveled. Soon he would also leave. He wanted a journey, and Japan was not the whole world.

"Your retainer told me Kanon is already gone," he said when they met in the hallway.

"Yes, since last night."

His mouth quirked. "That boy," he mused, as if talking about a small child instead of his own twin, "never does like explaining himself to me."

"Are you leaving, too?"

He seemed startled - at the question, her hushed tones, or both. "Yes, because he can't possibly trace our roots all by his confident self. But - It doesn't mean this is the end of us."

But I'll miss you both, she wanted to shout. You could call me like you did in Athens, and it still won't be the same. Then the words of protest withered away as she wondered if she was being an entitled teenager. Maybe those books and movies were lying; maybe real-life adults, even those who loved each other, went their separate ways with hardly a fuss.

"When are you leaving?" To her dismay, she sounded too disinterested, like a well-mannered party host.

"Tomorrow. Any later and he'd already have gone someplace else."

And that was that. They bade each other good night, Saori still feeling trapped by her party-host mask. Tomorrow she would give him a proper farewell and drive him to the station, airport, wherever. Tonight she would wallow in her heartache, but just for a while.

 

The fury, belated and well-stoked, hit her with dizzying force when she was getting ready for bed. You brutes! she fumed, shedding her house dress and stepping out of the pale green pool it made at her feet. Stayed here with me but only until the novelty wore off, didn't you? Well, go and research your precious lineage and see if I care! Find women your age, while you're at it, not some little girl who doesn't even come up to your big strong shoulders!

She was angry, Saori was angry, and for the first few minutes she felt she had been set free. Then the anger fizzed out, leaving her crestfallen. None of them had made promises of eternal love or anything similar, so why this demanding attitude? Saga and Kanon were on a voyage of self-discovery. The past week was a stop along the way, not the final destination, if there was one. And yet what she and the brothers had was no less real because of it, or so she believed.

How the Olympians would laugh at her silent tantrum! Shutting out that particular image, Saori bent down to retrieve the house dress and slipped it back on. She needed some immersive reading to lose herself in and to ease away the embarrassment of her childish outburst just now, and she might find such a book among her grandfather's old collections.

Someone was climbing the staircase as she walked past it. Thinking it was Tatsumi, she turned to ask if he was patrolling the house, and froze. "Kanon?"

"Yeah." He stopped and squinted up at her. "Hi."

"Aren't you..."

"On a flight out of Japan? I changed my mind, for now." He continued to climb the stairs until he stood two steps below her. A few strands of hair stuck out from his head, porcupine-like, and she was swept with a desire to smooth them down. "It hit me that I'm leaving too soon. We still have - a couple of things to talk about."

"Oh." Her relief must be palpable, and she couldn't care less. "Yes, we do."

A lopsided grin crossed his face. "Actually, let's go knock on Saga's door, because it's the three of us I want to talk about. Is that okay with you?"

Although the relief hadn't diminished, it was now streaked with apprehension. Saori sighed. "Let's go see if Saga is still up."

Having answered the door after the first knuckle-rap, Saga gave Kanon a once-over. "You're ready to talk," he said gravely. "I'm glad."

"So am I, because that means you're ready too."

The three of them trooped toward the old gym at the back of the house. As she pushed the unlocked door open, Saori's heart plummeted. Kanon canceling his trip to come here one more time might mean this was his final goodbye. What if it was the same with Saga? Not a pessimistic person by nature, she was nevertheless well-acquainted with disappointment, thanks to years of running a large organization.

After the young Saint candidates were sent off to various training places, Saori's grandfather had had the gym vacated. Monkey bars, sandbags, and other equipments were removed, leaving the floor bare and the vast room creepily empty. Saori switched on the single bulb, which threw reluctant yellow light around the room.

"No one goes here except to clean the whole place once a week, so we can have some privacy." Sticking to bare facts offered her a temporary refuge, but even that fell away when she turned to face Saga and Kanon. What she saw in their eyes set her heart palpitating; they might be ready, but she still wavered.

"Can I start?" Kanon asked, one hand behind his back. The atmosphere was not unlike that of a business meeting, with them standing in a semicircle, each concentrating on the others. Then again, it was late, and they might just be too sleepy for sentimentality.

Saga nodded. "Go ahead."

Kanon looked at him and Saori in turns. "This is nuts," he confessed, "but I keep expecting my brother over there to slug me ever since we arrived in Japan. He never held back before."

"I might, if it solves anything, and it doesn't," Saga said evenly. "Is that all from you?"

"Just one more thing." The bantering note was gone from Kanon's voice. "Are we fine the way we are? Absolutely fine? Tell me. No garnishing, no sparing my feelings."

Saori barely waited until he finished. "Yes." 

"You too, Saga? Great. Thank you."

Saga seemed to find this denouement as incomplete as Saori did. "And?"

"And now I know that, until we decide otherwise, things will remain the same between me and her."

In spite of herself, the simple declaration raked across Saori's conscience. Any other person would have been mildly irritated by Kanon's constant insecurity about his place in her heart. But Saori thought she knew why; Kanon believed she loved his brother more. And Kanon loved them both too much to want to intrude on Saga's time with her.

"Until we, the three of us, decide otherwise," she repeated, alarmed that her voice had thickened. "Until then - you two, please come to see me, here, in Sanctuary, anywhere. Always."

Her eyes bore into theirs. Neither moved to her, perhaps out of consideration for the other. This realization elated and sliced at her in equal measures.

Then Saga looked at Kanon. "Going to our birthplace was your idea. Are you still going to go through with it?"

"Sure. We could talk to the old-timers, they usually like telling strangers about the past. What have you got in mind?"

Saga contemplated the ceiling, the shadows it sank into. "I'm thinking we don't have to hurry," he said. "Those family tracks have been lying around for thirty years. They could wait another day or two. You said we're on vacation, so we'd better make the most of it."

With that, the mood broke and they filed out of the gym. As she clicked the light off, something niggled at the back of Saori's brain. Whatever it was continued to elude her even after she got back to her room, hoping the answer would turn up in the morning.

 

She woke up when someone lifted the edge of the quilt and slipped underneath it, into the bed and next to her. Trying to stay still and quivering anyway, she pursed her lips, her senses aflame, her skin tingling in anticipation. Bare muscled torso pressed against the back of her nightdress as he draped an arm around her waist. Rolling around carefully to face him, she wriggled up on the bed until her head was level with his.

In the dark Saga's eyes glinted as she eased herself deeper into the circle of his arm. "What's the occasion?" she murmured.

"None. Should there be one? But I could leave if you - "

Her mouth landed on his, scattering the rest of the sentence away. This was exactly what had nagged at her at the gym: all these words, these talks, the need for verbal elaboration. They had neglected other, unspoken demands in their effort to maintain cool heads, and starting from tonight she would fix that.

When they drew apart to come up for air, he whispered, "Saori," and that was - almost - all she could ask for.

 

On the following night she came to Kanon's room. Not a single syllable passed between them during and after, which suited her perfectly. As sleep sneaked in to claim her, his fingers sought and intertwined with hers; she fell asleep praying they would remain thus for the rest of the night.

 

Hermes visited her for the second and last time after she drove Saga and Kanon to the airport. Her car was parked on the curb and she was sitting in it, nursing a cup of iced coffee, when a burly man walked toward the Nissan from the opposite direction. Feeling abraded, like a wound that had been rubbed raw, she put down the cup.

"I made a bet with Apollo," Hermes informed her. "About how long those two would stay in your house. He said no more than two weeks after I talked to you at that music store, I said longer than that. Like you can guess, I won."

His tone left no room for other interpretations: she wanted to be Saori, the human girl, and the Olympians acceded that wish. They could deride her openly and let her know, and she would be gracious about it. After all, gods had laughed at humans since time immemorial.

"From the look on your face, they're not going back anytime soon."

"I didn't ask," she retorted, willing him to go away.

"And it's none of my business. Well, enjoy your new life, Athena. I hope it's fruitful and content." The burly man tipped an imaginary hat at her, then trudged away from the car. 

Still feeling like an open wound, Saori wiped at her eyes with the heel of her hand. When Hermes was gone, she drained the cup, started the engine, and drove away. At least Hermes had voiced no crude observations, although he or the other Olympians might have, away from her. Yet the more she pondered this, the more resolute Saori grew.

She might be the laughingstock of the gods, but she was still her warriors' leader. They depended on her, whether she was a mortal or the goddess of war, and they gave her their dedication, which she returned in full. It was a magnificent bond that no one, not even the gods, could sever. Had she trembled only because they might have said a snide word or two? Unbelievable. 

She was human, thus she loved and was graced with strength, even if she only lived for a few years.

By the time she reached the mansion, she was tuning into a song on the radio, fondly remembering the low vibrations Saga could descend to and how Kanon liked to defy higher notes.


End file.
